Dave Darrin on the Asiatic Station: Winning Lieutenants' Commissions on the Admiral's Flagship
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Dave Darrin on the Asiatic Station - H. Irving Hancock
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Table of Contents
CHAPTER I—TWO STRANGERS OF MANILA
CHAPTER II—THE TRAGEDY OF THE BAY
CHAPTER III—MR. PEMBROKE BREAKS IN
CHAPTER IV—THE LANDING PARTY AT NU-PING
CHAPTER V—SIN FOO HAS HIS DOUBTS
CHAPTER VI—HECKLING HIS EXCELLENCY
CHAPTER VII—BELLE HAS SOME TIPS
CHAPTER VIII—THE SWARM OF NIGHT FURIES
CHAPTER IX—THE TRAITOR OF THE YAMEN
CHAPTER X—THE CLIMAX OF THE ATTACK
CHAPTER XI—A SURPRISE PARTY FOR THE GOVERNOR
CHAPTER XII—RISKING ALL ON ONE THROW
CHAPTER XIII—ALL ABOUT A CERTAIN BAD MAN
CHAPTER XIV—DAVE HEARS SOME EYE-OPENERS
CHAPTER XV—WHEN THE FLAGSHIP WAS SIGHTED
CHAPTER XVI—THE MEDALLION MYSTERY
CHAPTER XVII—DAVE FACES THE HUMAN TEMPEST
CHAPTER XVIII—MR. KATURA DOES SOME ASTOUNDING
CHAPTER XIX—DAN FIRES A WARM SHOT
CHAPTER XX—CONCLUSION
Up Against the Gates.
CHAPTER I—TWO STRANGERS OF MANILA
I am delighted to have had the privilege of meeting you, Miss Chapin,
said Ensign Dave Darrin, lifting his uniform cap and bowing low at the end of the brief conversation. And my thanks to you, Captain Chapin, for having afforded us the great pleasure.
Ensign Dan Dalzell, U. S. Navy, delivered himself in similar fashion.
The two young naval officers turned and were about to resume their stroll over the Punta de España, or Spanish bridge, which, crossing the Pasig River, separates Old Manila from New.
Just as suddenly, however, the pair checked their progress, to stare across the bridge.
On the opposite side, leaning against the rail, stood a Chinaman in rather rich apparel, with a decidedly sinister cast of countenance.
Why is Old ‘Burnt-face’ staring so hard after Miss Chapin and her brother?
muttered Dalzell.
I’m blessed if I know,
returned Dave Darrin. I’ve a good mind to cross over and put your question to the Chinaman.
I’ve a greater mind to throw him into the Pasig,
growled Dalzell. I’m not strong on race lines or color, but I don’t believe that any yellow man has a right to glare like that at an American girl.
Dalzell took a step forward, as though to cross the bridge, but Darrin promptly caught his wrist.
Don’t do anything rash, Danny Grin,
urged Dave. Throwing a Chinaman into a river isn’t approved by the American government that has been set up in these islands.
Then perhaps I’d better not hoist him over the bridge rail and let him drop into the water,
Dan conceded. But I believe that I will cross over and have a look at him.
Not a bad idea, and certainly not against the law,
nodded Ensign Darrin. Let us follow the Chapins a little way, cross the road, and then come down on the other side so as to meet Mr. Burnt-face face to face.
The nickname that the American pair had given the yellow man was due to a patch of purple skin, of considerable area, under the yellow man’s right eye. Had that patch been absent, undoubtedly the Chinaman would not have appeared so sinister.
Odd that a fine girl like Miss Chapin should want to waste her life serving as a missionary in China, isn’t it?
asked Dan.
I wouldn’t call it wasting her life,
Darrin returned. Neither, you may be sure, does Miss Chapin herself so consider it. To her way of thinking, she is devoting her life to one of the noblest ideals that can animate the human mind.
I wouldn’t mind so much if she were like the average girl,
Dan rambled on, rather vaguely. But for a stunner like Miss Chapin—such a dainty little piece of exquisite womanhood—
Oh,
laughed Dave. Then it isn’t her services that you begrudge the natives of China, but her good looks.
Well, anyway,
Danny Grin continued rather testily, I’ll wager that Chapin doesn’t fully approve of what his sister is doing.
Captain Chapin was serving in one of the infantry regiments of the Army line at Manila. Being stationed in the city, Chapin had the good fortune to have his family, consisting of his mother, wife and two young children, located in a cottage over in Ermita, just beyond the massive stone walls of Old Manila. Miss Lucy Chapin was visiting her brother on her way to China, where a missionary post awaited her. Knowing Captain Chapin from the stirring days of service in Mexico, the two young naval officers, on meeting him here in Manila, the Paris of the East,
had been presented to that charming young woman.
Crossing the roadway near the Old Manila end of the bridge, Dave and Dan strolled back. In the meantime Burnt-face,
as Dan had named him, had turned and was heading toward the Escolta, the Broadway of New Manila.
Both young officers wore the white service uniform of the tropics. Here and there a soldier or sailor, in passing, brought his hand to his cap in smart salute, a courtesy which both officers, in every instance, returned.
That’s our fellow,
whispered Darrin, slowing down his step.
Burnt-face,
a man of somewhere near forty, if it be possible to judge a Chinaman’s age, kept on his way at a pace neither hurried nor slow. Three different times parties of Chinese coolies passed him. On perceiving Burnt-face
they lowered their eyes to the ground in passing.
Near the end of the bridge two much better dressed Chinamen passed the yellow man whom the young naval officers were now following. This pair made deferential bows, then moved slightly aside in order not to compel Burnt-face
to step out of his own course.
Our man is a chap of some importance,
murmured Darrin.
He may be—to a Chinaman!
grunted Danny Grin.
Reaching the end of the bridge, the Chinaman paused, then started to cross the street as if to go to the famous Café de Paris.
Honk! honk! A touring car, going at about twelve miles an hour, rolled down out of the nearby Escolta, heading for the bridge. With an agile bound Burnt-face
leaped back to the sidewalk.
Look at the scowl he’s sending after that car,
whispered Dalzell.
His lips are moving, too,
returned Darrin, quietly observant. If it weren’t for the look on his face I should say that our chap was praying.
In his case,
muttered Dalzell, he’s more likely cursing.
But say,
Dave went on. Just observe how ‘Burnt-face’ continues to glare after that car.
Can he have anything against the people in the car?
Dan wondered.
It is more likely that his hatred is directed against the car itself,
Darrin replied.
But why should he hate a mere assemblage of mechanical units?
Dan demanded.
I suppose that, being a Chinaman, he regards an automobile as the work of the Evil One,
Dave smiled. Your real, old-fashioned Chinaman isn’t strong for new-fangled ideas. In some parts of China the appearance of an automobile, even to-day, would rouse a mob to wild fury.
Queer old place, China!
uttered Dalzell.
Since we’re waiting orders to go to China, you’ll soon know,
Dave rejoined.
I don’t believe I shall like China,
Dan declared prophetically.
Now that the road was clear, Burnt-face
crossed the street. He did not go to the Café de Paris, but stepped up in front of a drug store, where he halted and turned around.
In passing, Dave and Dan managed, without staring, to get a good look at the yellow face. In addition to the purple mark under the right eye, Burnt-face,
with his lips parted, displayed one incisor tooth, the lower end of which had been broken off. At the left side of his chin was a mark such as might have been made by a knife or a bullet.
He’s an ugly-looking customer,
Dan muttered, when he and his chum had passed a few yards beyond the drug store.
That face carries a history,
guessed Darrin. Nor do I believe that it is a very savory history.
I believe that the only real pirates left in the world,
observed Dan, are the Black Flags that every now and then infest Chinese waters. I wonder if ‘Burnt-face’ were ever apprenticed to the Black Flags.
Don’t talk about him any more,
murmured Dave, after a backward glance. "The Chinaman is now returning our late courtesies by following us."
Attracted by the window display of a shop that dealt in Hindu curios, the two young naval officers went inside.
I want to buy something pretty with which to surprise Belle,
Dave explained, as the chums roamed through the shop, inspecting the hundreds of quaint and artistic articles offered for sale.
You expect her to reach Manila the 26th of the month, don’t you?
Dan asked.
The 16th,
Darrin corrected his chum.
Due here in eleven days?
cried Dalzell, sharing his comrade’s pleasure in the thought. My, Dave, you’re a very lucky young man!
It seems ages since I said good-bye to Belle,
Dave went on musingly. Dan, it almost seems as if I had not seen my wife since she and I were high school sweethearts.
I can take my oath that you’ve seen her more recently than that,
laughed Dan. Yet I know that it must seem a long while between your meetings.
A Hindu salesman, wearing European clothes, topped by a real Hindu turban, now approached them.
Something really nice for a lady,
Dave nodded.
Pardon, excellency,
replied the Hindu, with a low bow. Is the lady—ah—young?
Yes,
assented Ensign Darrin.
May I—ah—inquire whether the young lady be—ah—wife, sweetheart, or sister?
suggested the Hindu, with a second bow that was lower than the first.
Why do you need to know that?
demanded Dave, frowning slightly. She’s the finest girl on earth. Isn’t that enough for you to know?
Then,
declared the Hindu imperturably, she is your sweetheart, and in that case I am certain that I know exactly what to show you.
Oh, you do?
grimaced Ensign Darrin. Then trot out the best you have.
Will your excellency condescend to step this way?
proposed the Hindu, with the lowest bow yet. I shall exert myself to show you the very finest that we have suitable for distinguished presentation to a sweetheart.
Down to a vault, at the rear of the shop, the salesman led the way. Opening the vault door he nimbly slipped out two trays of exquisite yet eccentric Hindu jewelry.
Now, let the excellency gloat over these,
begged the salesman, throwing out a bewildering array of rings, brooches, amulets, bracelets, neck chains and the like, set in a dazzling array of precious and semi-precious gems.
How much is this chain?
asked Dave, picking up one of beautiful workmanship.
The price of that, excellency, is twelve hundred dollars, but as a very special favor to an officer in the Service I will allow it to go out of the store at eleven hundred.
Sighing, Dave laid the chain down.
It is not fine enough, I know, excellency,
glowed the salesman. Now, look at this chain. Is it not handsomer?
Yes,
Dave admitted.
This chain, excellency, is a wonderful bargain at fifteen hundred dollars.
Dave sighed, but declined to examine the chain.
Even if you had the money with you,
remarked Danny Grin, your wife would hardly think you displayed good judgment in spending almost a year’s salary to buy her a chain.
Oh, it is for your wife?
exclaimed the Hindu, in an almost shocked voice.
Yes,
Dave assented.
Oh, in that case, excellency—
With incredibly rapid movements the Hindu put the articles back into the two drawers, shoved them into the vault and closed the door.
Here you are, excellency!
cried the Oriental, springing to a near-by counter. Here is a chain of considerable beauty, and it costs but six dollars.
Giving a momentary gasp, Darrin eyed the fellow, then suddenly reached over and took him in a tight collar grip.
What do you mean, Mr. Insolence?
Darrin demanded sternly. Do you wish to insinuate that a sweetheart calls for a handsome gift, but that anything is good enough for a wife?
"Er—ah—in my country, excellency, when one buys for a sweetheart it is one thing. When he buys for a wife—"
Then thank goodness that my country isn’t your country,
uttered Ensign Darrin disgustedly, while Danny Grin